


Mabon

by GwynCat



Series: Turning of the Wheel [8]
Category: Dearg Dorcha, Original Work
Genre: Apple Harvest, Fandom - Dearg Dorcha, Irish Language, Mabon 2020, Pagan festival, Plague, poly-relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwynCat/pseuds/GwynCat
Summary: " Good thing we left now, or we won't make it in time before the rain starts."The hunter grunts in affirmation, wrenching the carcass again. The sky rumbled again, this time a lot closer. Emer laughs nervously." Ha ha, that one sounded strange."Guinevere's ears perked up, eyes widening and tail puffing up."Ní toirneach é..."
Relationships: Morag x Emer x Guinevere
Series: Turning of the Wheel [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585492
Collections: Dearg Dorcha





	Mabon

The smell of crabapples and cinnamon wafted out of the oven when Emer checked on the pie. She closing the oven door, she wipes her apron. Looking out at the apple orchard she sees the villagers picking the ripe fruit off the trees. Children ran between the trees as the adults picked and shook the apples out of the trees.

The Apple harvest was a tradition started by the founders of the small village,before the farmer's family were able to hire farm hands. It was a fun tradition, even though Cat síth can't really eat apples. Imogen's apple cider is amazing though.

" Emer, how long until the pie is done?"

Emer turned to Imogen, who was stirring a bubbling cauldron of crabapples,cinnamon,and honey. It was amazing that Maebh was able to get cinnamon and honey in such large quantities and to the secluded location they lived in. She pulled a lot of strings for such a feat.

Looking down the line, there were many villagers lined up making various apple based pastries and sweets. The smell made her excited for the pumpkin harvest, again thanks to Maebh's strong connections in the trade industry.

Emer moved the cloth mask off her face to get a better smell. Now She could smell the more subtle smelling ingredients in the food. It smelled wonderful.

It the perfect distraction from the plague passing through Albion. It has gotton everyone paranoid about breathing air in fear of getting it. Not that it was a bad thing, from what she heard from Róisín the sickness was pretty bad. Thankfully, the plague hasn't reached their small isolated community. And it doesn't hurt that her family is pretty isolated from the village as well, her mates being hunters.

Emer spots Guinevere hiking over the hill toward her. Her hood was up with a scarf wrapped around her face. She stops every couple of steps to heave something forward. As she gets closer, Emer sees its a huge buck. Guinevere stops at the edge of the hill. Emer waves at her mate, which draws the hunter's gaze. She walks closer but stands at a distance, staring at the other villagers wearily.

" Dia daoibh Mo Grá."

From where she was the medic could see her mate's eyes soften as she smiled under the scarf.

" Dia is muire duit, Emer."

Emer wiped her hands on her apron,smearing sugar,cinnamon and mushed apples on it.

" The hunt was good?"

She asked,gesturing to the buck Guinevere had dragged out of the forest.

" Aye, Mórag an' Greer are draggin' the rest back 'ome ."

" What did you catch ?"

" Dhá fhianna agus torc ."

" That's better than usual."

Emer said pleased.

" Aye, we'll get a better profit ."

Emer smiled at Guinevere's satisfaction, turning back to the oven to make sure the pies weren't burnt.

" So ,how's apple pickin' ?"

" Hmm? Oh! Yes, It's going really well and I made plenty of pies."

" Maith. "

Emer looked at the still steaming pies, picking two up and realizing she can't carry the third. Emer shifts her hips and asks,

" Can you take one of these pies or do you have enough to carry? "

Shifting her eyes between Emer, the remaining pie, and the buck, Guinevere gives her mate a bemused look before grabbing a cloth then grabbing the pie.

" Go raibh maith agat. "

Emer thanked her mate, who lifted her brow before responding curly,

" Tá Fáilte romhat. "

The smaller aoi sí smiled. The duo made their way down the hill and into the woods.

\-----

Leaves crunched as they we're stepped on, the women in the woods. The sent of willow and moist dirt wafting into their noses along with blood and apple cinnamon. Guinevere growled and she jerked the animal carcass as it once again caught on another tree root, nearly tripping on a nearby rock while doing so. Emer's ears perked up as she heard distant rumbling.

" Good thing we left now, or we won't make it in time before the rain starts."

The hunter grunts in affirmation, wrenching the buck again. The sky rumbled again, this time a lot closer. Emer laughs nervously.

" Ha ha, that one sounded strange."

Guinevere's ears perked up, eyes widening and tail puffing up.

"Ní toirneach é..."

A twig snapped as the rumbling grew louder. Emer looked around as her ears flattened against her head.

" BEAR!"

Guinevere dropped everything she was holding in favor of grabbing a dagger and charging the animal. 

" EMER RUN!"

Emer dropped what she held, running in the direction of the clan's hut. She could hear Guinevere's battle cries and the bear roaring. Twigs hit her face as she just ran, rocks and root scraping against her feet. She panted, desperate to find Mórag, Greer or anyone who could fight off a wild bear.

Just as she thinks that, she slams into something, falling back on her ass, she's stunned.

" Oi!?"

" Heledd!?"

The Cat Sì blinked at Emer.

" Wha' ? "

The Aoi Sì scrambles to her feet, grabbing her in-law's sash, and tugging.

" Whoa Whoa! Wha' is goin' on? "

Emer widely points in the direction she came in from.

" BEAR!"

" Bear?"

" GUINEVERE! BEAR! FIGHTING!!!"

Heledd nodded seriously.

" Al'right Lass, calm down, I'll get Mórag und Greer und get tha' feisty thin' "

The older woman nudges her in the direction of the Clan's camp. Emer rushes in and closes the door.

" Emer?"

She recognizes another one of her in-laws; Eithne, looking bewildered.

" Did I hear somethin' aboot a bear? "

Emer swallowed, nodding furiously.

" Oh, Tha' not good!"

Eithne's arms wrap around her sister's mate. 

" Mórag an' Greer will help the bear, and we'll get some bear pelt!"

Eithne was always a optimist. It did help sooth her, not a lot but a little. The younger Sìdhe pushed her toward the fire place, making her sit down as she grabbed a bowl and filled it with stew.

" Ithe an Stobhach ." 

Emer gratefully grabbed the bowl and greedily drank from it. Eithne peered out of the window, nose scrunching as the rain was blown into her face. 

Emer continued to eat the stew, the warmth it gave soothing her. She looked at the familiar hut, the light from the fire flickering from the middle of the room. Eithne pulled the cloth back in front of the window, her face damp from the rain. 

Sitting down on the floor next to Emer, Eithne layer her head on her shoulder. 

" She'll be ok. "

Emer stared at the entrance

" Are you sure? "

" Aye, They're too tough ya kill!"

" But that bear, it was **huge**! It was bigger than Mórag! "

There was silence for a few moments before answering. 

" Uh well, they're tougher! "

Emer gave Eithne a look, before sipping her stew, chewing on a couple pieces of meat. 

" Maybe..."

Eithne shoves her shoulder

" You're too serious."

The more-cheerful Cat Sí flopped down on her back, careful not to put her ears too close to the fire. Listening to the fire as their conversation ends. 

**Author's Note:**

> Dia Daoibh Mo grá = Hello my love ( irish )  
> Dia is muire duit = Hello to you too ( Irish )  
> Dhá fhianna agus torc = Two deer and a boar ( Irish )  
> Maith = good ( Irish )  
> Go raibh maith agat = thank you ( Irish)  
> Tá fáilte romhat = You're welcome ( Irish)  
> ní toirneach é = That's not thunder ( Irish )  
> Ithe an Stobhach = Eat the stew ( Irish )


End file.
